


Rehash

by SparkleandPop



Category: Powerpuff Girls
Genre: Adulthood, Adults, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Childhood Friends, Dimension Travel, Disguise, Ending Relationship, Enemies to Friends, Long-Distance Relationship, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Parallel Universes, Sneaking Around, Teenagers, budding friendship, retired heroes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23059180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparkleandPop/pseuds/SparkleandPop
Summary: Do you ever feel as though there are a million stories to be told yet not enough time to tell them all?I do.---A collection of short stories.
Relationships: Boomer/Brat Plutonium, Boomer/Bubbles Utonium, Brick/Blossom Utonium, Brick/Brat Plutonium, Butch/Blossom Utonium, Elmer Sglue/Blossom Utonium, Mitch Mitchelson/Bubbles Utonium
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	1. Proverbial Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one expected Blossom Utonium to be where she was now. That was fine. She didn't need to be a hero anymore. She was happy co-owing just another small coffee shop in the middle of Townsville. It was a simple life where she could enjoy firsthand seeing people filter in and out of her shop, hearing stories and seeing faces old and new as they changed in ways a younger her would have never imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the start of each chapter there will be a note on the POV, focal relationship(s) of the story, and tags that apply. If you think there should be other parts to the notes please do share! I also will use the term interaction(s) instead of pairings/shippings because not all of them may be romantic (ex. friendship, one-sided, implicit, etc.)
> 
> \---
> 
> POV: Third person omniscient
> 
> Interaction(s):  
> Blossom & Butch  
> Blossom & Brick  
> Elmer & Blossom
> 
> Tags: Adults, Adulthood, Retired Heroes, Enemies to Friends, Bakery and Coffee Shop

Blossom knew she had a problem.

Well, that was an understatement. She, like her sister, had multiple problems that no one could ever hope to fix. But finding solace in the smiles of the Townsfolk was more than enough for her. 

_“I dunno, Blossom. I just...can’t help but wonder why you’d choose-” He gestured around the coffee shop. “This.”_

Of course he didn’t. Everyone in her life had the same reaction when, after acquiring her Masters in Teaching, she decided to return to Townsville and open up a coffee shop with her then college roommate. Long before her financial business adventure people were questioning her sanity when she announced her choice in major; they all expected her to go into medicine or law, perhaps human rights. Teaching? Oh heavens no, why waste away genius at that? Of course everyone would belittle the very field all humans must traverse through in order to stand where they currently do.

Blossom pushed her thoughts away from the cynics because if she allowed herself to dwell in that place she’d spend hours foaming at the mouth at the ludicrousness that was society and their standards of ‘smarts’ and career fields. It didn’t help that she kept replaying the words Elmer told her the night before when he waited on her to close up the shop. It still strung. How could he be so gentle, kind, caring, sincere, and...crass.

Yes it was a coffee shop but it was her haven. How could it not be? This space where the max capacity was eighty people had been painstakingly refurbished to have a more classical feel. The mahogany tables, red leather booths, and the burgundy metal chairs were all hand selected. Even the wall close to the entrance that lead all the way to the bathroom was painted to be a chalkboard so that whenever customers visited they could doodle to their heart's content. While her roommate came up with the concept, branding, and menu it was her who gave it a touch that all members of the community complimented.

Blossom knew without a doubt that she did not regret her choices, even if other people begged to differ.

“Excuse me, miss. I’d like to order three shots of tequila for me n' my bros.”

She bit her bottom lip, a sigh that sounded more like a huff escaped though the small gap as she kept her focus on the dollars in her hands. She didn't need to turn her head to know the voice was clearly grasping for her attention. Onlookers would naively think otherwise just as the ignorant cashier by her side didn't notice because the sneak said it in her direction; a devious, archaic technique. Instead of giving the idiot what he wanted Blossom let the silence stretch, ignoring the giggles that came from beside her, as she neatly sorted the change into her employee's register.

“Butch, your shirt is inside out and you know we don’t serve alcohol.”

After she slammed the register shut did she look up to see Butch pinch the fabric of the side of his shirt. He raised it up to observe the side seam that ought to have been hidden from view- just like those green plaid boxers that peeked out of his dark blue jeans. He quickly dropped it with a shrug. Anyone would have taken this lack of care as confidence but Blossom knew better. Butch learned his lesson from last time he tried to take off his shirt in _her_ shop.

“Uh…”

Oh, the poor new girl. Females first interactions with Butch always ended in them being speechless because they were deathly afraid of him, found him ‘hot’, or sometimes both. Judging by the way she kept eyeing him up and down before her attention focused on his jeans, Blossom had a feeling the girl leaned far into option two.

“Sorry, Sarah. What Butch meant to order was one large taro bubble tea with extra tapioca pearls topped with whipped creme, a black coffee with three cubes of sugar on the side, and a café au lait with a spritz of salted caramel flavoring. Oh, and three slices of cheesecake. And Butch, she’s new. Don’t mess with her.”

She didn’t bother to wait for a response as she walked away and through the white door that lead to the kitchen. If there was one thing to avoid it was being in the vicinity of bumbling girls and flirty boys engaging in prehistoric, babbling rituals of pseudo-flirting. Or, at least, not to be anywhere near it so that no one could associate her with it. While not much Blossom very well still had an image to maintain, this imaging being what lead to one of the biggest problems in the book of Blossom’s issues that need some serious fixing; using her powers to people watch in secret. In particular those who had once been villains, like the green Rowdyruff who has his forearm on the recently wiped countertop.

“So, Sarah. What brings you to this lil o’ coffee shack?”

Another giggle erupted from her borderline legal employee as she slipped a lock of straight black hair behind her ear.

“I’ve always liked Ms. Utonium’s coffee so when she put out the hiring sign I ran in and demanded the job. But- uh.” A new customer took their place in line behind Butch. Their time was up. “I guess…”

“We can talk it over in detail another time?”

“Yeah! I’d like that.”

_**Oh Sarah. Poor, pure Sarah. You’re so out of his league. Can’t you see that? No. Of course you can’t. You’re too distracted by the muscles and forest green eyes. May you realize the mistake you are making before it’s to-** _

“Bloss, take this to table three.”

Mitch stood at the opposite side of the kitchen. One hand held a tray with two plates of freshly made strawberry crepes in her direction, the other poured batter onto one of two electric griddles. She walked up to him confidently. Why wouldn’t she? She was a master at multitasking work, the view, and where Mitch’s focus was at all times. Ah, the wonders of years of reconnaissance paid off at times such as these.

As she took the tray out of his hand and placed the cheesecakes she had prepared for the boys on it, Mitch turned his attention away from the sizzling batter to her. They both gave each other a nod of acknowledgement but Mitch ended his with a smirk and a wink. She could ignore his blatant disrespect at work, what with these overly friendly gestures and lack of formal speech due to the fact that, well, it was Mitch. One could only lecture the boy so hard before dealing with the lack of change. Besides, she knew how difficult it could be to treat someone different when you've treated them the same practically their entire life. He’d likely always see her as the bug-eyed girl in the pink dress that was a teachers pet, not his boss. He tried though -sometimes.

At the window by the door sat a young couple she admired since they made their entrance around half an hour ago. They were holding hands on top of the table, their fingers interwoven and the look in their eyes so sugary it would make any romance enthusiast melt. She was about to turn her heels to give them a few more seconds of blissful unawareness together but the taller of the two spotted the shift and offered a smile. 'It’s okay' were the words she imagine they said. Their hands separated to the sound of Blossom’s cracking heart.

**_They're too cute together_**.

She hoped with all her might their relationship would go well as she stopped in front of them.

“Would you like me to write on your crepe or the plate?” She offered as she set the desert in front of them.

The couple marveled at the treat. While Mitch may not seem like it, the man really knew how to decorate. Not only was the batter perfectly mixed with pink food coloring to give it a cherry blossom motif, the strawberries and whip creme on the outer edges of the plate were thoughtfully placed; it was the shop's top dish for a reason.

“Surprise us!” The shorter one replied while snapping a picture of the dish on their phone.

As Blossom contemplated what words fit the dish and their owners she ignored the three pairs of eyes observing her.

“Man, maybe we should have ordered the crepes too.” Boomer chimed, elbowing his brothers.

Brick retained his usual poker face as he reached out for the coffee Butch brought to the table. He took a quick inhale of the scent before taking a sip. It was the perfect temperature of one step below the boiling point. Call it the powers of fire or whatnot but drinks were the best when they’re freshly brewed, not after cooled; that was disgusting.

“For real tho. You think if you ask she’d draw a- OW!” Butch yelped, hand rushing under the table to rub his likely-bruising shin. “Bro! I didn’t even finish talkin’!”

“Didn’t want to hear it.” Brick muttered as he returned to enjoying the perfection that was in his cup. It was a well-kept secret that his currently favorite coffee was from this shop. He wouldn’t allow Butch’s idiocy to ruin the escape from reality the delectable treat gave him.

“He’s got a point, bro. Your jokes are pretty old.” Boomer piped up. The lid of his bubble tea laid discarded as he licked the whipped creme still floating on the top. 

Of course Butch knew that but that didn’t stop the jokes from being _good_. Really, his brothers needed to learn to live a little and maybe grow up too. It felt like he was the only adult in the table considering the two had the same sticks up their butts since they were kids, _especially_ Brick. Sure Boomer liked to act all high and mighty with his ‘gentleman’ persona but the dude was just as lewd, if not lewder. The kid was just good at hiding it is all. And Brick? If he didn’t hear the whispers in the air he’d assume the prude was still a virgin.

Blossom was half-tempted to step up to their table then and there and ask if they wanted a doodle just to see their reactions -but no. No one needed to know she was listening in as she took a step back and admired the couples reactions to her syrup penmanship. After muttering a quick 'enjoy' she left the couple to google translate Κέφι*. Hey, they said to surprise them and she had a strong belief that the word perfectly fit the scenario they brewed in their little corner of the world.

When the conversation seemed to have died down at the boys table was when she turned her heels and walked in their direction. With all the poise she always carried she placed their order of cheesecakes delicately in front of them.

“Enjoy, boys.”

She was about to walk away when Butch reached out and grabbed the sleeve of her cashmere blouse. She stopped, not because she was curious as to why he would do that of all possible outcomes to stop her. It definitely wasn't because the warmth that radiated from his hand, through the fabric, and ticked her skin felt extremely soothing. Oh no, it was simply because this was one of the prettiest, most delicate shirts she owned and she knew the slightest strain to the material would leave a very visible mark that would take longer than she’d like to iron out.

“Yes?”

Now all eyes were on the inside-out shirt wearing fool as he cracked a silly grin and looked directly at the squeeze bottle tucked into the oversized pocket of her black apron. She didn’t need to shift her gaze to know Brick was glaring at Butch while Boomer drank his bubble tea in a semi-successful attempt to hide his chuckles. It was almost comical to be in the same vicinity as the Rowdyruff boys when they did, well, _anything._ It reminded her of when they were children.

“If you let go then I will.”

He quickly complied. She had to swallow the snort that threatened to escape, hid it with a well-trained smile as she watched the boy literally shake in his seat. Really, he was too amusing. To add to the humor she rested her tray on the center leg of the table before walking around Butch to stand in the space between him and Boomer. 

“What would you like?” Her attention was locked on the blue boy of the trio.

Of course that didn’t stop Butch’s excitement. In fact, the shaking grew stronger as he waited for his turn. It was humorous to everyone except Brick who simply grabbed his spoon and scooped a big piece of the strawberry shortcake into his mouth. Boomer, meanwhile, stroked his chin as he glanced quizzically at his plate.

“I’m not quite sure. See Blossom, when faced with infinite possibilities one cannot simply choose just one. No, one must consider ALL options before making a choice.” To that Blossom released the chuckles she held back as her eyes involuntarily rolled. “ _Or_...You could draw something you’d think I like!” He exclaimed. His balled up fist slammed into his open palm.

_**Ah, c'est magnifique! True genius at its finest.** _

Wasting no time Blossom took the chocolate syrup out of her apron, spun it upside down in her hand, and squeezed lines and circles that came together to form a cartoonish doodle of Bubbles when they were children.

“How’s about that, capitán?”

“Ah, yes. A fine portrait of my true love. Blossom, you are truly the Picasso to my Mona Lisa.”

“You mean the da Vinci to your Mona Lisa. And please, Boomer, that art piece pales in comparison to the natural beauty that is my sister and you know it.”

If there was anything appealing about Boomer it had to be how melodic his laughter was. She could hear it for hours on end and never tire of it. The laughter easily died down as he took a spoon full of cheesecake, smearing some of the chocolate art onto it before bringing it to his lips.

“Indeed.” He placed a light peck on the desert before swallowing it in one gulp.

Now came the moral dilemma of red vs green.

On the right corner was the Master Masher, King of Crushing, Duke of Destruction, Reigning world Champeen of having too many names because of an overinflated ego. The one and only, Brick the Sourpuss! Choosing him would be the easy route where the boy would secretly be pleased to be tended to but wouldn’t dare show it as he kept drinking his coffee that she knew for _a fact_ he adored. Butch would just increase his little puppy dog excited jig as he waited because, in the boys mind, he was last and while Brick hated to be last Butch loved it because that meant he was “the best” as the old saying went.

And in the left corner was none other than the The Baron of Berserk, who if chosen would squeal something along the lines of 'you came!' and place his hands over his lips in a prayer position. Brick would remain as ‘inscrutable’ as always but deep down would feel a sense of joy when his turn arrived. He would be happy when those five seconds of her time were focused on him. Both options were equally as tempting and giggle-inducing to consider but in the end she decided to slip her bottle back in her pocket. With palms on the table and her body hunched forward, she turned her head to meet eye to eye with the friendliest ruff in town.

“Boomer, I need your help. See, when faced with two possibilities one cannot simply choose. No, one must consider BOTH options before making a choice. So pray tell, in your bottomless well of wisdom...what would you choose?”

Cobalt blue eyes widened as he bit the bottom of his quivering lip, doing the best within his power to not burst into laughter. Sure, he was terrified of what Brick might do to him later if he didn’t play his cards right but after years upon years of mutual coexistence Boomer liked to believe he had the best grasp of his older brother. Butch...eh, didn’t matter what he chose cause the moron would be giddy with whatever.

“I’d say Brick. I mean, come on. Can’t you see those hopeless puppy dog eyes glaring at me cause he wants to kill anyone that gets too close to his master? I’d say throw the guy a bone or just do both.”

Blossom had to pat Boomer on the shoulder for that one. The boy who looked like he belonged in some modeling agency billboard must have count his blessing that Butch was there. Sure he practically bounced off of his seat and bit his bicep to hide the onslaught of laughter that threatened to leave his body, but he managed to place his leg in front of Boomer’s and activate his shield ability before Brick’s leg could make contact.

Blossom easily walked around the table to stand in her original spot. Now that she had space to work with she pinched the corner of Brick and Butch's plates and dragged them to clank together in front of her. She didn’t think twice as the memory of those old Japanese videos Bubbles showed her filtered through her mind. Luckily she remembered when Bubbles taught her the titles of those actors. On Brick’s plate she wrote 突っ込み** which she partially regretted because the word was a little longer and complex to draw with chocolate sauce. She got the job done though and easily wrote ボケ*** on Butch’s plate.

“As much as I’d like to stay I have other customers to tend to. Toodles.” It was easy to grab her discarded tray and strut towards the kitchen, ripping the receipts Sarah had pinned to the “new orders” stand before retreating into the kitchen. She gave the slips to Mitch as she listened to the sound of Boomer’s overly loud cackles.

A giddy feeling inside her grew with the sound but she pushed it as far back as she could in favor of asking Mitch if he wanted a glass of water.

* * *

‘Once a coward, always a coward'; those words haunted Elmer and reared their ugly, archaic head whenever he was forced to confront reminders. They were roughly the same height but there was something about those piercing forest green eyes that made him feel four feet smaller and twenty years younger.

“How long does she usually take?” Butch's forearm rested on the chrome streetlamp as he looked at Elmer. The corner of his lip twisted up in a friendly smirk.

Being regarded in such a way made Elmer wish he could just stab the involuntary feelings in its gut. They weren’t kids and he didn’t need to feel so uncomfortable near someone he considered a friend. It had been a while since they last spent time together and this always happened whenever they spent a significant amount of time apart. It really was an exhausting, redundant inner battle.

“Usually ten- twenty minutes tops which I always find sweet of him to wait through.” Blossom chirped from her spot at the doorframe of the coffee shop. She had leaned on it in a similar style Butch had going on with his streetlamp.

Really, her problem was too big; she had actually finished closing the shop in roughly three minutes and twenty-two seconds but spent some extra time watching the two interact.

Both sets of eyes instantly latched on to her. Butch would have laughed if he were younger and less aware of the circumstances. Being the adult he clearly was he settled for side-eyeing the not so subtle starstruck platinum blond. He couldn’t blame the kid since Blossom could make a potato sack dress look hot. The girl knew how to pull anything off, including those plain brown mary janes, black slacks, and too soft cashmere blouse he had the privilege of touching hours ago. Even the little red bow that clipped the front pieces of her hair to the back of her head looked good when it should have looked childish and been an easy mocking tool to use against her.

Blossom ignored Butch's glances as she regarded Elmer’s attire. Based off of what he was wearing she presumed that rather than go home and take time to relax, Elmer stepped out of his job at the bank and spent the rest of his time casually hanging around the town as he waited for her to close shop. He really did look good in that snazzy walnut brown suit. A stark contrasted from the ripped black jeans, white t-shirt, and leather jacket Butch wore. Even though both sported that same side head shaved pompadour look that seemed to boom in popularity these last few years, Elmer’s hair was slicked back and looked as though each hair was glued in place whereas loose strands stuck out at all edges of Butch’s head.

“So, am I being escorted home by two knights in shining armor or do I have to risk traversing through this concrete jungle all my lonesome?”

Taking a few purposeful steps forward towards the boys, Blossom turned on her heels when she was beside them to face her beloved coffee shop as well. She wrapped her arms around theirs and started floating off the ground, an action Butch mimicked with a wicked smile. Elmer, on the other hand, looked more doubtful but when Blossom leaned in and whispered a 'hold on' into his ear, Elmer immediately wiggled out of her grip and wrapped both his arms around her waist. He squeezed her for dear life but to her it might as well have been a soft caress.

They took off with a streak of pink and dark green diligently following behind. The flight could have been shorter but Blossom made sure to restrict Butch to thirty miles per hour so the adrenaline junkie wouldn't make this flight scarier for poor Elmer than it already was. Besides, they were in no rush. It didn't matter how many people were already at the Utonium household, they couldn't do anything except wait for her to open the door. In theory they could be as 'late' as they wanted without being considered late.

She'd made sure Elmer enjoyed the flight, the feel of the breeze against their bodies and sights of the city as she effortlessly restrained the rabid dog that wanted to yank her around. It all paid off when they landed in front of the pristinely cut lawn of the Utonium residence. Gratitude radiated off of Elmer in waves as he gave her waist a small, appreciative squeeze.

"Let's get this party started!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Κέφι is greek word that's a bit tough to translate since it can be interpreted in many ways. Blossom uses it in the sense of "stay happy and have fun always".
> 
> A classic Japanese comedy act where 突っ込み** is the straight man and ボケ*** is the funny man.


	2. I'm sensitive!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll show them. I'll prove that I can be... sensitive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV: First person
> 
> Interaction(s):  
> Brick & Brat  
> Boomer & Brat
> 
> Tags: Teenagers, Parallel Universes, Dimensional Travel, Disguise, Sneaking Around.

I snapped the SD card into the silver handheld camcorder I stole from the recently reconstructed 'so vile it's mild' electronic goods store. It was the dumbest name ever but what else could you expect from a town filled with dummies? With a couple of button mashes I was confident I mastered control over the little piece of tech. If I was right (which, duh, I _always_ am) I could record about ten hours. That was perfect because I only planned to be here for about three max.

I point the lens at my reflection on the tacky pink heart mirror the Powerpuff girls for some stupid reason kept. Didn't they ever learn? But whatever, their stupidity makes my life easier. It also was part of the reason why I hated the girl who looked back at me. My perfectly styled twin fishtail braids were replaced by low, wavy pigtails. Instead of a black crop top with strips of leather criss crossing over my bare, toned stomach a white tank top covered it up. Baby blue shorts hugged my hips and covered my cheeks, preventing them from peeking out unlike the black leather shorts I adored. Instead of looking like the sex symbol I was, I reduced to looking like some hippy goody two shoes. I hissed at the reflected image of Bubbles open closet. All of her clothes are super lame. She had too many dresses and jeans and they were just so colorful and modest it sickened me. Did the girl feel ashamed of her body? She seriously needed some lessons on self appreciation and a torch to burn her clothes to ash. Even her choice in footwear was so kiddie. Like, did she think we're still five!? We're seventeen! But no matter how much I hated it I kicked off my black heels and slipped on white canvas shoes she painted to have her pathetic looking Octi on it.

I'm sure if my sisters wormed their way into the place they'd attack me on sight, probably even scream "where's Brat!?" because they're too dumb and I'm too amazing at being a master of disguise. See, I'm so smart I planned this out meticulously. I knew Bubbles wouldn't be in town because she had some art trip to some dumb, boring museum. Her butt-ugly sisters were still around but they had their own plans; Buttercup was going to go to some guys house to 'hang out' or whatever and Blossom had some school club thing to do. Really, everyone thinks Berserk is the brains of the gang but it's all me. I'm the one who comes up with all the pranks, the one who stealthily uncovers dark, steamy secrets for ransoms. If anyone in our group had the patience to painstakingly enact an evil plan it was me. Not Berserk, not Brute. _Me._ Brat, that's who.

As much as I love looking at myself (even if I look like I'm five) time is ticking so I fly out the open window. The city's so pristine, the streets so well-kept it makes me feel like sending some eye beams down and watching the trees burn. I hate nature almost as much as I hated this place. But another thing that makes me infinitely superior to my _pathetic_ sisters is that I not only am a genius, I also have a high tolerance to any and everything which is exactly what I needed to fulfill my brilliant plan.

But voices in my head, what is my plan? Don't you remember? About three days ago when my sisters and I were partying in Vilescity, the one place on Earth that actually worships the ground we walk on and has cool things like sophisticated clubs and punk-proof glass, we were partying and there was this guy. He was too cute. Like, so cute I was willing to approach him first and let him bask in my presence unlike all the other drooling pigs that tried to stand close. He was dressed extravagantly in his spotless white suit. I was sure when I stood next to him with my tight black dress he'd instantly fall. We just complimented each other that much. But, as always, Berserk the sausage hungry priss practically lunged at the poor guy to bat her dollar store false lashes at him. Long story short I beat her hard, _won_ , and when I brushed her corpse to the side with my studded black stilettos I looked up to see the horror in his eyes. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm not used to being looked at that way. I _relished_ those looks. On him though, it seemed almost...wrong? And not the good wrong, the weird wrong. And then when I tried putting the moves he squeaked how he couldn't be with someone who's so 'insensitive' before running away with his tiny tail between his legs.

Me? Insensitive? I'm the most sensitive person I know! But of course Brute and Berserk (who had a black eye. Ha!) laughed at me and said the dude hit the nail on the head. So after trying to reason with them and getting brushed off I decided I'd show them all! I went around town to ask but everyone was terrified of me which made sense but was still stupid. We let them rebuild! We barely wrecked the city these days (Vilescity was too nice to them and donated some puff-proof glass to the major buildings), so give me the time of day! That's when I realized if I was going to show them what's what I couldn't do it here. I'd have to go somewhere else where people didn't run away in fear. So I thought and thought and decided I'd just go to another world and what better one than the one with those stupid Powerpuffs? I could pretend to be Bubbles and since they're our opposites I knew any and everyone would approach me. I'd play nice, interact, and record them saying 'wow you're so sensitive!' or something along those lines and show them all that, again, I'm always _right._

I flew low enough that people could see me and made sure to smile like the 'good girl' I was as I zipped past them. This would be easy. I just needed to spot some prey and go from there. I thought about just hitting up the park or the mall but I saw a small trail of smoke that made me slow down. I knew I should have just ignored it but in this perfect little town where could a fire ever come from? That and my inner pyromania was flaring to see. It was pretty to see the source was just a vending machine with the fire already put out. At least the damage was enough that cans littered the floor. Hey, free soda. Who'd pass that up?

"Ah. Bubbles!" I almost forgot that's who I'm supposed to be so I used the action of me grabbing a can to play off the momentary lapse in character. It easily slipped out of my fingers when I locked sights on the blondie that squeaked 'my' name. He tried his best to smile it off but it was too obvious that he was hiding a stolen soda can behind his back. "It's not what it looks like!"

I was going to tell him off -in a Bubbles way, of course. Because who does this ugly loser think he is wasting _my_ time? But then something in me clicked like my finger clicked the record button. My focus, like the camera, zoomed to look at the top half of his face. Was he...blushing? Oh. He _was_. He looked like he was caught in a crime by the last person he wanted to see and that's when it hit me that's exactly what was happening!

"Shut up, Boomer. We got caught red-handed. She's even recording it." Oh. _Oh_. There was another one. "So what are you gonna do, sissy? You gonna yell at us for trying to get our money back from that broken piece of scrap metal or what?"

Well no. I actually wouldn't mind just having a soda and laughing at the blond's stupid face but I guess it's time to put on the acting hat.

"No. It's fine! Just try to fix it and leave a sign apologizing and it'll be okay!" I could feel the strain on my cheeks as I forced the madness down so my smile could look more 'normal'. I also zoomed out so I could capture both boys bug-eyed reactions. Ha. See, I am sensitive! I'm totally doing a good job of acting like I care about their feelings. Take that, Berserk!

"Is that so?" The bad boy wannabe redhead mumbled as noodle hair disappeared in a flash of blue that was similar to mine.

Now it was my turn to be stupefied because he just ran away at superspeed- what!? They had super powers too? But no, I wouldn't let it show. I acted as though this was totally normal because it had to be. There was no way they'd behave like this if it wasn't. There was a history here I didn't know about which completely annoyed me. It didn't last long though thanks to the sight of ugly Mcchicken legs. He was frantically shoving the cans inside and nail the machine shut with some wooden boards and nails he returned with. Then it hit me, this was perfect! They're obviously easily manipulated, at least the twerp was. I'll use them.

"So boys, are you both fre-"

"YES!"

That was it. I had to laugh. Oh gosh, this dude was a total sucker. His friend seemed to share my thoughts as he slapped the eager puppy dog in the nose. Props to the loser for only flinching instead of pathetically crying.

"Why should we?"

"Brick!"

"What? She's recording us. I don't trust it." A smartie too? _Interesting._

"Oh, this? I'm just recording a day in the life of Bubbles for an A/V club student." A smooth excuse. Effortless.

"Yeah! See Brick, it's fine. Well, see you later!" Blondie's walking towards me but before he can get close I extend an open palm. He looks down at it quizzically but I don't give him time to get a word in as I walk past his sorry butt towards the Brick guy.

"It's fine if you don't trust me. But…" I made sure to resist getting next to his ear, instead hovering a few inches away from it. "You'll be missing out on some fun."

I knew it was risky to my plans just like I knew Bubbles would never do something like that. The guy looks like the brains compared to the airhead he'd been hanging out with, what with those crossed arms and the way he glared down at me as though he was trying to dissect my body and mind to find out what my aim was. If anyone other than the stupid Powerpuff girls could figure out my scheme I had a feeling it was him. But if there's anything I know about evil it's to be careful. We have to be because temptation haunts us at every turn. It's what makes us lose. It's what's making me bite my lip as I imagine it's his earlobe.

Ah. I got it _bad_.

"I'm only going cause I worry Boomer's going to make a fool of himself and cry about it all night."

"Hey!" Oh, the Boomer guy. I almost forgot he was there.

He came to stand between me and the cutie. Part of me was thankful because the third wheel would help calm me down if he kept this little possessive act up. I guess Bubbles and him must be dating? Or at least he totally digs her. Ew. The dude had terrible taste and her taste is putrid if she likes him back. They start bickering with each other which I have a feeling is their shtick but I'm not about to lose the spotlight, so I cut into the act by clapping my hands high in the air, making sure to tone my strength down to just shatter their eardrums instead of the buildings around us.

"I want a snack. Where's the best place in town to get one?"

Again I know my mask is slipping because Brick's looking at me like he can see the cracks. Boomer, on the other hand, is quick to list stores so I just cut him off at the fifth name and ask him to guide us to his fav. This increases the joyful aura he's radiating as he shoots into the sky with that creepy copycat blue followed by a streak of red. I instantly follow and make sure to stay as close to Boomer as possible because while not outright I can tell Brick is sneaking glances at me. Normally I'd be all for the flirtatious play but I'm staying committed. They will help me prove my sisters wrong. Then _maybe_ after we can kick this little play up a notch.

We reach a corner of a street with a tiny ice cream parlor that looks straight out of the 1950s. I almost smashed through the roof out of habit but didn't thanks to the boys targeting the sidewalk that separated it from the hustle bustle of cars. I also made sure to smile at Boomer as he opened the door for me. My sights weren't on Brick (I fighting that urge) but I could hear the exasperation from his sigh as he followed behind me. I'm also pretty sure I heard him grunt from the force of the door slamming on his face but I made sure to bite my tongue while I made the rest of the way to the start of the line. Okay, ugly pants, you get one point. _Just one_. Lucky for you I like all forms of mischief.

The face of the preppy part-time high school made me wish I could be Brat and punch those pearly whites. As you know, voices in my head, I hate most people -it's a predisposition from the everything nasty bit of me. But oh did I hate uppity looking, prissy little girls. Didn't help she only spared me a glance before turning her attention to the boys and asking them what they'd like. Uh, excuse me b-

"Bubbles, what would you like?" Good thing I'm tougher than most because if I wasn't I'm sure I would have gotten whiplash from how fast I turned to see that smiling dork. His pearly whites, well...not bad. Truth be told I hate ice cream. Sweets in general. Sadly I knew Bubbles had a sweet tooth and figured denying the treat would make me more suspicious than I already was. Ugh. All the flavors seemed nasty but then there's one that really tickled my fancy.

"I'll take a small scoop of Bubbles flavor, please." Of course this town would name stuff after their heroes but ice cream? HA!

Sure enough everything still went according to plan (which I guess I owe a little bit, _just a little_ to the pig for keeping me grounded). Just as I hoped we took our sweets outside and acquired one of those square outdoor tables with the umbrella to shield us from the sun. I didn't mind where I'd sit unlike Brick who slammed his butt on the spot in front of Boomer, the only spot on the table that had some form of shade. This time I did laugh because that was too cute, he almost crushed his friends legs! Definitely a keeper.

I took my spot across from them. I wish I was sitting next to Brick. There was enough space but I think sitting in different corners was the best bet. I had a feeling if I sat next to either of them there'd be reactions I'd have to deal with which I wasn't quite in the mood for thanks to the cold little cardboard container in my once free hand. So I sat down and let the camcorder keep doing its thing, didn't even bother changing the zoom or focusing where the lens faced. Silence hung low on the air which was perfectly fine with me because I spent that time mentally preparing myself to bring a spoonful of the sugary trash into my mouth.

"Mmm. Bubbles flavor tastes as sweet as you!" Boomer said after he released the spork out of his mouth with a pop. Thankfully I could live through Brick as he stared the dude down and rolled his eyes in an exaggeratedly slow pace. Boomer didn't even notice because he was too busy giving me gooey lovey-dovey eyes, the entire reason why that small innuendo didn't amuse me in the slightest. It was all the push I needed to force the spoon into my mouth. At least this helped cover up my prickling nerves.

"Yummy." I lied as I resisted my gag reflex and swallowed the disgusting treat down. Isn't the worst thing I've ever put in my mouth, at least. Just focus on the thought that it's like ironic cannibalism. Yeah, that helps. Eating Bubbles. Ahahah...

"You know Brick, I'm surprised you didn't get the Blossom flavor. She's your favorite, isn't she?"

**_What!?_ **

Brick mumbled something under his breath while the fool that sat close to him didn't take the hint and leaned in close. "What's that?" Boomer asked seconds before Brick's simultaneously blew fire in his face and sporked his thigh.

Oh no. Resist. DON'T LAUGH.

Lucky for me the two were focused on having a glare off, or whatever they were doing could be called since it was only Boomer who looked mad. It gave me just enough time to discreetly pinch my right thigh with my (sadly stiletto-less) nails. Ah, pain. A great way to bring me to life so I could admire the ginger. He oozed confidence in his whole being, from the triumph straight back to the crossed arms all the way to those delicious cherry lips. I normally hated red because of Berserk but oh, that might change if I kept hanging around this guy. If only I could keep looking, but no, voices, this is my shot!

"Boomer. I don't think you should tease Brick." That got their attention. Boomer looked absolutely crushed, totally lost. Brick had his detective lens on for only a second because when he caught sight of Boomer that made them crash on the ground.

"Yeah, _Boomer_. Listen to the girl. She's _your favorite_ after a-"

As much as I hated to think it, I couldn't help but regard the speed at which Boomer cut Brick off by flinging him into the air as slightly impressive. Red and blue swirled together in the skies as they fought. Looking down at my ice cream and camcorder, I knew what had to be done. I easily slipped my pigtails out and put one scrunchie on my wrist before breaking the other in half. I used the elastic to tie the strap of my camcorder to the belt hook on top of my right pocket. With a quick look around I made sure no one around me was looking as I fired a beam through the ice cream and the table and, for good measure, flashed the fingers at stupid ice cream girl. She couldn't see me through the glass but I didn't care, it was enough of a stress relief for me before shooting up to the skies and getting in between them.

"Boys, boys, boys! We all know fighting is wrong. Just think about the poor townsfolk we must be scaring." To prove my point I motioned to the earth below us where onlookers had their phones pointed at us. They both followed my gesture but when they looked back at me only Boomer seemed guilty about it whereas Brick looked mega aloof. Couldn't really tell what he was thinking. If only I was strong enough to keep up the act but after my little crime it was wearing thin, especially at the sight of their disheveled clothes. I could feel my fist twitch. I would have lost all control and punched the stupid blondie in his face then and there. I'd do that and more, so much more if it wasn't for Brick taking the chance to fly to my side and wrap his long arm around my shoulder (if only it was my waist...)

"Yeah, Boomer. Don't upset the girl. You know she's _sensitive_."

Oh that's not all I-wait. WAIT!

I practically ripped my shorts off when I yanked the camcorder into my hands. Good thing my knot tying skills were never the best.

"Can you say that again?" I practically begged while I held the camcorder about as far away as I could in our position. I needed a good angle (though every angle of his is good) to capture the words I was searching for.

Brick looked from the device to me, so confused he didn't even have the ability to judge as he obeyed my command. See voices, I knew it. I KNEW IT. In your face Berserk! I was so happy that I'm sure even he believed I was Bubbles with how girly my squealing sounded. I wrapped my arms around his waist and blasted higher into the sky. The clouds covered us and only when the sight of his stupid brother and town were fully washed away did I put my free hand behind his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. I would have gone deeper if I only had enough time before his senses (sadly) returned. It amazed me how strong (and oh so warm. The hunks a furnace!) his hand on my stomach was. I had a feeling he had more in him than that but maybe because I was a girl or he secretly liked it (probably the second) he was a bit more thoughtful on how much of it to use. I was struggling a little to stay but I knew when to quit (part of the genius) so I made sure to bite his bottom lip roughly and loosen my grip as I let his hand separate us.

"Bubbles! What in the-" This time I was the one to silence him with my hand over his mouth. He bit down, hard. But I didn't flinch. I'm sure that surprised him just as much as my words.

"Thanks, Brick. I'll make sure to come back. By the way-" I took my hand off of his mouth and looked down at my palm. His indents were there, the canines protruding. I made sure to stare right at him as I licked the wound, then my lips, and flashed him my sultriest smirk. "My name's Brat. Don't forget it."

So voices, what happened next? Of course I made my grand exit and flung myself through that portal mirror without getting caught. In less than three hours because, ha! Mastermind, remember? Then at night I relished in Brute and Berserk's collective gasps as they watched the film. Of course they'd never say it aloud but we all knew I was right! I showed them! I can be sensitive. So sensitive that when Berserk commented on hot Red was I punched her in the throat and hissed how he was mine. Brute took the chance to drag her by the hair to our room. And me? I gave the screen one last look, the film frozen on Brick's quizzical look as he called me sensitive.

"See you soon, cherry boy."


	3. No biggie. I had it coming.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you end up following along until you end up somewhere else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV: Second person
> 
> Interaction(s):  
> Mitch & Bubbles
> 
> Tags: Teens, Long-Distance Relationship, Ending Relationship, Childhood Friends, Budding Friendship.

“C'mon!”

You freeze. It’s not like you’re scared. Oh no. You’re strong! So strong you could take anyone on if necessary. What stops you is that you’re not sure if it’s your place to be there. Well yeah, you remind yourself. It is! It’s your house. But no, it doesn’t feel like it for the split-second you hear that voice. With your hand still hovering over the doorknob of your bathroom it feels like you're part of a classic movie scene. Oh, and that’s Mitch’s voice which is odd because last you checked this was your house and no one was supposed to be home.

“I refuse and that’s final!” 

You don’t even need the superpowers to know that’s your cue to zip up to the roof and make your presence as small as possible. Buttercup hasty opens the door. You think she must be really, really mad if she didn’t sense you and flew straight to her room. You hold your breath as the slam of her bedroom door reverbs around the house. Mitch steps out a second later, you can tell with the way his body is positioned that he's looking at the general direction of Buttercup’s room. You think he’ll follow her but, to your horror, his neck strains backwards to give you a look that softly asks ‘how long have you been there?’. 

It’s what makes you slowly float down, take his hand, and fly him out of the house all the way to his. Sure you have questions like why in the world were they together in the bathroom of all places, but your priority now is to assure him you didn’t hear anything and see if he lets you know what just happened. Yeah, you ought to be by Buttercup’s side doing this because she’s your sister but she’s also a very internal person with a fiery rage she’d much rather quell alone. You respect that just as much as you respect the childhood friend you gently place on the ground outside his trailer home.

“I didn’t hear what happened so...what happened? Are you okay?”

You're not sure if you caught sight of a flash of hesitation, of meekness, or of regret. It could have just been your imagination or the sun glaring right at you because when you blink Mitch is smirking as he shrugs his shoulders.

“No biggie. I had it coming.”

You try not to show how it hurts that he doesn’t trust you enough to talk. Then again, that’s not surprising; you are acquaintances at best. Sure you call him a friend but you weren’t sure if he did the same just as you weren’t sure if you ever considered him one. You've known each other since Kindergarten but he’d always been Buttercup’s friend and someone you only ever had light-hearted conversations with. He might hold you in positive regard and respect you but that’s what most people did, just as most people usually opened up to you instantly with their problems. Maybe that’s why it bothers you so much? Of course it is! It's far too sad. It also effectively shuts you down and makes you feel like you're an outsider. Which you were since you're pretty sure no one expected you to come home early from dance practice either.

Now was the perfect time to leave so you whisper a sympathetic ‘okay’ and take to the skies.

* * *

It’s been almost a week and you can tell that the tension between Mitch and Buttercup worsened with each passing day. Normally he’d be lounging around the house or they’d be out somewhere together, now she comes home alone and he always seems to be in the company of anyone but your sister. Blossom quickly took notice too and unlike you tried to confront Buttercup on what happened. She only crossed her arms and spat ‘he needs a reality check’ which only served to worry you more. Blossom let it go with such ease it made you a tiny bit envious. You wish you could let it go, be as strong as Blossom in that sense, but you've always been far too weak when it came to others. You guess that's why you wound up here, standing outside of Mitch’s trailer. Your hand is hovering inches from the door, hesitation filled your senses and brings out the dryness of your throat. You try to swallow some saliva down but it really doesn’t help.

“I’m sorry, Katie. I...don’t think I- No! I’ve been trying! I- NO! I want to be there. I just- Wait!”

Maybe you were cursed to live these cliche-like scenarios is what you think when just as quickly as you hear the telltale sound of a dropped call the door flies open. You manage to step back in time so the flimsy wooden door doesn’t break on contact with your skin. You must look as spooked as Mitch who, for the first time in your life, has those sad creases on his face. You want to hug him. Instead you pull your hand back to wrap around your shoulder. It’s not the most reassuring posture but you can’t control the guilt you feel from appearing at the wrong time not once, but twice. It’s seconds in this silence where you’re not sure what to say and can’t seem to remember you have the ability to fly away that he somehow composes himself and gives you the same questioning gaze as last time.

“Are you okay?” You know you shouldn’t jump straight to the question but unlike last time you’re not curious about what happened. No, the need to make sure he’s stable overpowers everything else. You think maybe, just maybe , he’ll finally speak to you. He’ll unwind all the nerves you see tensing his shoulders as he lets go all the worries you’re sure he’s bottling up.

“No biggie. I had it coming.”

Your heart stops beating. It clenches and you feel a pain so profound for the boy that you just can’t imagine it’s ‘no biggie’. Maybe it might not have been a serious issue. He may be able to keep all his secrets locked tight but that doesn’t change the fact they exist. You also have a sneaking suspicion that the one person he’s willing to talk to about this is at home distracting herself with video games.

“You’re in love, aren’t you?” Nothing in this world is as maddening as conditions of the heart, that's what leads you to your accusation. He laughs at it, the sound echoes in the air like a deep cough as he makes a show of slapping his knee. You’d have fallen for it if you didn’t catch that glimmer of discomfort. “I know we’re not exactly the best of friends but if you ever need someone to talk to please don’t be afraid to talk to me. Please.” You know that you didn’t need to plead. You could have easily let this topic go and move on. You're sure he’d appreciate that but you just can’t turn your back on someone in need.

He just stands there. You count to sixteen because you always had a habit of counting things down with your age. When you land on the digit he’s still staring so you decide it's time to go. That's when he grabs your right wrist. You turn your head back to see the apprehension you never noticed dangle on his quivering lower lip.

“Please take me to Wisconsin. I have to see her.”

“When?”

“Now. Just- only an hour. I just need an hour. Please.”

In retrospect you should ask who this girl is and why he needs to be flown states away. There's a lot of questions you could ask. Instead you comply with the request, eventually settling on the ground feet away from a worn down looking high school. The bugs are chirping, swirling around some dim street lights and Mitch ignores the rural scenery to drag you inside. You almost didn’t notice but when you’re sitting inside the musty auditorium you realize that the space is awfully cramp and there was no one outside to ensure that the people who went in were allowed. On the stage, under the golden lights stand a boy and a girl. They confess their love to each other while holding cream sodas and that’s when it hits you that Mitch wanted to go cross country to see the Emily of this drama club’s production of Our Town. You know it’s for her because there’s this softness floating in the air as he watches her, like it’s the proudest moment of his life. 

You don’t even have it in you to interrupt the show with why’s, wouldn’t even dare to so you relax into the seat and watch. It seems they don’t have enough money in their budget for pre-bought props or maybe they decided to make them all from scratch for fun. It works. You’d compliment the crew that made the backdrops if you could and, at the very end, you’re rubbing your eyes on your right sleeve because Emily’s pain always resonates inside you and that girl encompassed the final scene perfectly. You turn your head to tell Mitch your thoughts but seeing that tear trickle down his eye makes the words fall flat on your tongue. You're so stunned that by the time you fully process what happened you realize Mitch dragged you behind the curtains where the students rush to remove their marks from the stage.

He’s still holding your wrist even as he approaches Emily and taps her on the shoulder. When she turns you see shock, joy, and terror flicker like lightning bolts.

“Ya made it.”

“I had help.” He motions to you with his head to which Emily seizes you up and down. You're not sure if the way her eyes drag over your captured wrist is prolonged out of genuine curiosity or bitterness.

“Is this dat Buttercup gal ya always dronin’ ‘bout?” 

“Nah. This is her sis. Say hi, Bubs.”

You do even though it comes out like a squeak. Before you can even regain enough composure to tell her your well-rehearsed and much loved self-introduction she’s back to looking at Mitch and there’s that bubbling rage on her you’re all too use to seeing at home.

“I thought I told ya not ta come.”

“Yeah but I made it. Isn’t that what matters?”

It’s only when Emily glances around to see half the students stopped what they were doing to observe that she grabs Mitch’s left hand and drags him, and subsequently you, out the backstage door all the way to the grassy field. It’s also then that you register the light touch still on your wrist and realize he’s been squeezing it each time she talks. He squeezes it harder when Emily let him go.

“Listin’ here, Mitch. I can’t do dis no more.”

“But Ka-”

“Shush! You listen now. I tried, Mitch. It’s hard bein’ so far apart. I can’t take it no more n’ I promised myself I’d decide after seein’ ya at da show where I stan’.” You think as she glares at Mitch that she truly does have the potential to be a great actress. Boys were always hard to read but girls come easier to you and you can tell through the layers that this is hurting her more than she lets out. You don’t know her but you imagine that she must have been struggling with this decision for weeks, months even. It must have eaten her up and wore this relationship down.

You didn’t even realize you were staring at her as hard as Mitch must have been till she turns around and mutters a weak ‘goodbye’. It’s only when that metal door slams that you fully snap out of the trance and look from your wrist to the boy still holding it captive. You barely feel it but you know he’s squeezing it with all his might because there’s a trembling in his fingers like the one in his voice when a weak “let’s go back home” blows along with the cold April breeze.

Instead of going along with it you use your position to your advantage. You pull your hand, light enough that it only yanks him to the side so you’re looking up into his cloudy brown eyes. You’re positive he’d rather have the chilly air from the flight back home blow the tears away than be seen in this state but you just can’t do that. All you can do is use your free arm to wrap around his neck and pull him down into a hug. You say nothing. He doesn’t move and you slowly count to sixteen before you slide your arm down to his waist and go up, up, and all the way to your house.

He probably doesn't want that if the light pressure on your wrist is any indication but you slip out of his grip with ease and give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before opening the door. Seconds later you return to his side. Blossom’s upstairs in bed curled over a good book, the Professor is down at the lab running tests on a recent experiment, and Buttercup left her games in favor of some place else. He looks so small unlike the bigger than life boyish persona you associate him. You meet that person halfway with a smile you hope is reassuring. Now it’s your turn to trap his wrist, making sure the grip is soft as you pull him into the house and down on the sofa. It only takes three minutes to ready some hot chocolate. You make sure to add extra whipped cream and sprinkle some cinnamon powder on top. He looks apprehensive but you just nudge the cup closer to his face. He takes the hint and grabs it from your hand, blowing on it for a few seconds. You sit beside him and swallow one-third of the sugary treat.

“Tastes good.” 

You giggle, happy to hear the compliment and see the small tug on his lips. He takes another sip and the silence hangs in the air. It’s not uncomfortable because you know it’s needed and, weirdly enough, feels right even when you’d normally have to sing songs in your head to deal with it. By the time you both finish your cups, right when he bends his body down to put his on the coffee table, is when he clears his throat.

“Buttercup was right. I shouldn’t have gone but I had to.” He looks at you with so much emotion you’re not quite sure if the girl was his first love. You know she must have been close. “We’d been dating for two years. I always wanted to visit but could never afford it. Back then it didn’t matter but...Katie’s right. It’s hard not being together. I…” 

His eyes squeeze shut. You’re sure he’s doing his best to break free from the onslaught of memories. You place your hand on the skin above his knee. This makes his breath hitch as he looks from it to you. Even though you know it's from surprise you're all too used to your strength hurting others, meaning you probably visibly flinched. He quickly catches your expression and mumbles “s’okay.” Your hand hovers over the spot but lands back with the renewed assurance that your gesture of comfort is acceptable.

“It’s okay to be hurt, Mitch. I’m sure it must be heartbreaking.”

You're surprised to find your voice. Normally you talk so many circles that it makes practically anyone that knows you dizzy. You're not sure what you expected from all of these thoughts and happenings but it definitely isn’t the sight of him shaking from laughter, the sort that was silent as it ran its short course. When he looks at you again you’re still reeling at the changes because now he’s got that familiar twinkle in his eye. It's the kind he always had whenever he pulled a prank or won at a game; he was amused.

“You got it wrong, Bubs. I saw it all coming. I just wish I had ended it sooner.” Then there’s a shift and he’s got this sort of aura around him that’s reminiscent of a starry sky. It’s mysterious, powerful, and most of all peaceful. 

You’re hit with the thought that maybe, just maybe, all the pain he's been displaying isn’t his own. It was commiserate for a girl that once upon a time was his entire world. You wonder if he's already moved on. It looks like it but looks could be as deceiving as the voices in your head.

“You-”

“Yeah, I’m okay but I’m also not because I _am_ okay. It feels like I shouldn’t be but here I am, drinking hot cocoa next to one of the cutest girls in Townsville. Can't even cry cause of all the tears I’d shed weeks ago.” Now he was glaring at you all threatening like with that sparkle. “Don’t tell Buttercup.”

You have to laugh at the empty threat and the obvious tease in his tone. You also laugh because this troublemaker put you through so much recently it almost feels like you’ve been close friends for years. He laughs too. It’s small but the energy bounces between you both till you’re left gasping for air. You're rubbing your hands on your stomach to ease the pain away when Buttercup bursts through the door. Quick to catch on she marches the rest of the way to tower over you both. The silent treatment's long gone as she commands Mitch to explain what in the world you were doing together. So he does, to which you take the time to refill the cups and provide Buttercup with her own. You’re half way done with it as Buttercup punches Mitch's cupless arms with her free hand.

“What did I tell you! I knew she’d break up with you, fool!” Buttercup looks triumphant, leaving you to assume that the parts Mitch conveniently left out of his retelling were lost on her; she really has no idea that he also saw it coming. “It’s about time, too. That relationships’ been sour for months. You should move on.” For some reason at the end of her statement you and Mitch lock eyes. You offer a small smile, out of politeness of course! To which he returns with a wink. 

You’re pretty sure that girl isn’t you. It won’t be because you’re not his type and he’s not yours. What you’re sure of is that after tonight your relationship's changed. You feel confident that after today he might start talking to you more and you’ll feel the compelling urge to stay by his side as you do with all your friends. Long after the cocoas and talks about any and everything, after a good hot shower, you slip into your fuzzy bed sheets and feel the warmth radiating from your wrist as you let the Sandman do his job.

Tomorrow will be another day. 


End file.
